


Fic Amnesty: Swaplock Breakup

by fanficology



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, F/M, Fic amnesty, Swaplock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 13:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3250655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanficology/pseuds/fanficology
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To quote Lexie, Fic Amnesty is: </p><p>"We all have stories mocking us from our document folders that, let's face it, aren't going anywhere. They are under developed, maybe you've written yourself into a corner. But maybe there's a slice of dialogue that is great, a scene that works.<br/>These are the stories that are sick, dying, dead in the water. This is where they can shine. And who knows, maybe someone knows CPR?"</p><p>Further explanation in the Beginning notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fic Amnesty: Swaplock Breakup

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE NOTE. THIS FIC IS UNFINISHED AND LIKELY WILL NEVER BE FINISHED.
> 
> Think of it as an artist's sketch that will never be completed.
> 
> Just wanted to clear that up. IF you start asking where the rest of it is, I'm going to roll my eyes and shake my head.
> 
> I have a soft spot in my heart for this fic. I really like a lot of it but it has sat on my hard drive untouched for nearly two years. I lost the plot and didn't know how to wrap it up. I like parts of it enough to share them sooo maybe this will inspire someone or something?
> 
> I have a lot in the beginning but then it sort of peters out. This fic will contain random notes I wrote to myself though the majority of it is in story format.
> 
> This was written pre season 3 so some details are different, for example Sherlock's father is referenced as being a jerk and Mary is not a spy but is Sally's cousin.

**prologue**

“So, what are you going to do?”

 

Molly shrugged from where she was reclined on Sally’s couch. “I’m not sure yet.”   

 

“Okay,” Sally said slowly as she set a cup of tea down on the coffee table before collapsing in the armchair.  She tapped her foot for a few minutes as she watched Molly think. “Sorry.  But how can you not know?  I mean do you at least have a gut instinct or anything?”

 

“There are many factors to take into account.  I need to look at it rationally.”

 

Sally gaped at her.  “Look at it rationally?  Molly, this isn’t like trying to decide what flat to rent.  This is you deciding whether or not you are going to be a mum. Rationale may say something but your gut may something else!  In which case, you should probably go with your gut.”

 

“If you wouldn’t mind, I would prefer to keep sentiment out of this decision. It’s the reason I am in this situation to begin with.”

 

**Chapter 1**

_Two Days Earlier_

              “Does it truly matter that your mother doesn’t like me?”  Molly asked finally as they neared Baker Street.  The silence of the car ride had become oppressive. “She doesn’t have to live with me. You do.”

 

              “It’s complicated, Molly. But yes it sort of matters.” Sherlock refused to look at her, keeping his eyes intently outside.

 

              “Oh.  My mother likes you.  Mrs. Hudson likes me. Does that help this situation at all?”

 

              “No, it doesn’t.”

 

              “Oh.”  Molly furrowed her brow in confusion.  “I know most people don’t like me, but may I ask why she doesn’t? I tried to not act like myself. Isn’t that what you wanted me to do? I don’t know why. Your mother is, presumably, not an idiot.  Surely even she will figure out that the façade I presented today wasn’t typical eventually.”

 

              “Will she?”  Sherlock asked, still not looking at her.

 

              Molly frowned as her mind raced with that information.  It almost sounded like Sherlock wasn’t expecting her to meet his mother again. Knowing how close he was to his mother, she did not like the implications of that at all.  “I would assume that I would be meeting your mother again at some point in my life.  Putting on an act can be tedious but I can if that is what you wish.”

 

              A sigh.  “No.  I don’t want you to put on an act.”

 

              Some of the tension leaked out of her frame. She hoped that Sherlock wasn’t ashamed of her.  Molly knew how important tonight was for Sherlock.  She did try her best not to make any deductions about Mrs. Holmes or say anything inappropriate. That night was the quietest Molly had been in a long time.

 

              They remained silent for the rest of the ride to Baker Street.  Mrs. Hudson came out as soon as she heard the door open.  “How did it go, loves?”

 

              Molly didn’t see the look Sherlock gave Mrs. Hudson but from the look on Mrs. Hudson’s face it was not pleasant. Molly shrugged at Mrs. Hudson as Sherlock made his way upstairs.  “I thought it went well.  I tried not to say anything inappropriate and had assumed I had succeeded.”

 

              Mrs. Hudson gave her a sympathetic pat on her cheek.  “I’m sure you tried dear.” Molly reared back in offense.  Molly did not try, Molly did.  She was a talented actress when she wanted to be and that night she had wanted to be.

 

              Molly slowly followed Sherlock up the stairs, wishing she had moved back in with Sally after she had resurrected herself. She found Sherlock sitting in front of the fire with his head in his hands.  “Have I done something wrong? I didn’t mention anything about her unflattering lipstick or Mycroft’s weight gain.  I made sure not to make any references to our intimate lives. When your mother wished to pray over our food I stayed silent and respectful despite my distaste for religion. I ate what was given to me even when I found it to be distasteful and nauseating.  Well, I didn’t eat the fish.  It was undercooked and you know I can’t abide fish.  Other than that, I did what Sally told me to do so where did I make my mistake?”

 

              “Don’t worry about it.”

 

              “But I do!  You are not happy and this is distressing you.  It seems to me that this is more an issue with you or your mother than me considering the rather atypical hold she has on her children but-“

             

              “Just be quiet!” Sherlock shouted. He took a deep breath and added, “please.”

 

              Sherlock had never shouted at her before Molly thought with surprise. She definitely didn’t like it.

 

              “Having a domestic?”  Watson asked from the doorway.  Molly scowled at his voice.  Watson and his dull but tolerable wife had been staying at 221b while their building was being fumigated and renovated.  It had severely altered the dynamic of their household in a way Molly did not appreciate.  The flat that had used to be her sanctuary and a place of safety had evolved into a place of anxiety where she dreaded going.  “Your mother called me.  Wanted to let you know you forgot your portion of treacle tart in your rush to get out. Did you leave in a hurry to save your mother from your girlfriend? “

 

              Molly suppressed a flinch. She had grown a thick skin from childhood to protect her from insults and derision.  In the time she had spent dead and in hiding with Sherlock her shields had crumbled to almost nothing.  A symptom of constantly being around someone who admired and trusted her. It wasn’t so much Watson’s words as it was the fact that Sherlock exchanged a wry smile with Watson instead of defending her.   He had been doing that more and more since Watson temporarily relocated back to 221b. Joining in on his jokes instead of putting a stop to it.  She didn’t need Sherlock to protect or defend her but it was nice to know that he did not enjoy the barbs as much as his friend did.  Maybe it was because she didn’t have friends that she didn’t understand the reasoning behind this.

 

              Molly straightened at that thought. She didn’t have friends, did she? But she did have one. With that she turned around, pushed past Watson and walked out the door.  She walked down the stairs and out of 221b.  She didn’t stop walking until she reached Sally’s door.

 

              “Molly! What are you doing here? How did it go?” Sally asked in surprise as she opened her door.  Her hair was wrapped up and she was in a dressing gown.  Obviously preparing for bed.  Molly frowned. She was unaware it was so late.

 

              “May I stay here tonight?” Normally she wouldn’t ask but she had no desire to alienate her only friend. Suddenly she felt very alone in the world.

 

              Molly straightened at the look of dismay on Sally’s face.  Perhaps she had already done so. “Oh no, what happened?  Come in! Come in!”  The detective closed her eyes in relief.  The dismay was for her, not because of her.

 

              “Sherlock’s mother does not like me. This distresses him.”

 

              Sally flipped on the kettle and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet.  “Well, it’s never a good position to be in, having your boyfriend’s mum not like you. Was it something you did?”

 

              Molly was surprised at how hurtful that question was.  It was a legitimate question for Sally to ask.  She was notorious for making faux pas and being inappropriate.  Somehow though the fact that everyone presumed it was all her fault and no one else’s was very grating to her.  “No.”

             

              “Really?” Sally asked as she placed the teabags in the mugs as the kettle began to bubble.

 

              “Yes,” Molly replied, her voice close to shouting. “She doesn’t like me and no one will tell me why.  She likes Watson. She likes Mycroft’s husband but she does not like me.  I had thought perhaps she just did not like the idea of a woman replacing her in her son’s affections. Wrong! Throughout the entire dinner she referenced Sherlock’s former paramours including Adler.” Molly suddenly felt very tired as she slumped forward.  “She thought Adler was a better partner for Sherlock than I am.  I just don’t know _why._ She disliked me from the moment she laid eyes on me.”

 

              Sally sat down next to her and handed her a mug. “Sometimes mums just don’t like people.”

 

              Molly took a sip of her tea, wincing at the heat. “May I spend the night here?”

 

              “If you think it’s a good idea.”

 

              “Of course it’s a good idea! Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?”

 

              “Don’t you think you better be with Sherlock right now?  See why she doesn’t like you? Also did you tell him yet?”

 

              Molly looked to the side in confusion. “No.  I thought I was supposed to talk with you about this. That is what girls do right? Analyze things?”

 

              “We’ll do that later.  We need more information than what we have.” Sally’s mouth quirked the way it did every time Molly said something she found amusing.  “First though, drink your tea.  Once you ferret or deduce all your information we’ll have a good long chat until you want to cry with how dull it is.  Also, you should tell him.”

 

              “This is decaf.”

 

              “Yes.”

 

              “It’s horrid.”

 

              “Yes, well better get used to it. You have about another 7 months of it in front of you.”

++++++++++++

 

              Molly felt better as she walked back to Baker Street.  All she needed to do was collect the data, which she was good at doing; analyze it, something else she was good at doing; and solve the mystery of why Sherlock’s mother did not like her, something she was very good at doing.  

 

Yes, it was all figured out.  She’ll get what information she could from Sherlock tonight before lying down with him until he fell asleep.  Once asleep she’ll do some research and sorting of data.  Surely, by morning she will figure out the problem and start to formulate a solution. She’ll make Sherlock’s mother at least tolerate her and finally tell Sherlock she was pregnant.  He’d be cautious and try not to show any reaction at first. After she told him of her decision to keep the pregnancy that would change.  He never pushed but it was obvious that Sherlock wanted to be a father. It was odd that he tried to hide the fact from her as if he was ashamed that he desired children. No matter, though. Her news will erase any unease he had left over from tonight’s dinner.  She could make him happy.  That would show Sherlock’s mother who could be a good partner.

 

Molly slipped off her heels before climbing the stairs. No sense in making too much noise.  Not that she would wake up Mrs. Hudson but she might wake up a Watson and they were unbearable even when well rested.  Well, Watson was. Mary was quite tolerable though whether that was because she was inoffensive as toast or Sally’s cousin was indiscernible.

 

Voices made her pause halfway up the second flight of stairs.

 

“Why did you tell Mummy?”  Sherlock demanded. Ah, so Mycroft had come to visit. Curious.  He only came over at this time of night if he had an urgent and sensitive case for her to solve. Even then he usually summoned her to the Diogenes Club for an assignment.  She never could say no to Mycroft.  She owed him her sobriety, sanity, and livelihood.  And Mycroft refused to let her forget that debt.

 

“She wished to know about the woman who captured your heart, Sherlock-” Mycroft said in his irritatingly even let’s-not-be-stupid tone.

 

“She couldn’t have waited until tonight?  Got to know Molly herself instead of by a piece of paper?”

 

“Look, mate, you can’t blame your mum.  All she’s heard about Molly?  The cases and faked suicide and all?  She’s got to worry,” Watson replied. Ah, so Watson _and_ Mycroft were arguing with Sherlock.  About her.  Perhaps arguing was too strong a word.  By their gentle even tones it almost sounded as if they were staging an intervention. Molly wondered if relationships had interventions like drugs did.  She remembered her interventions.  They were horrible and mostly unhelpful.  Some of them actually drove her further into her addiction. She supposed that relationships would have interventions if they were abusive.  Molly bit her lip as that thought crossed her mind.  Would that mean that she was abusive? 

 

Ridiculous. Of course she wasn’t abusive. Sally would let her know if she was. That was what Sally did; let her know what was good or not good. She trusted Sally to do so.

 

“Did you have to include the drug abuse and arrests?”  Sherlock just sounded tired.  His anxiety about the dinner had caused his insomnia to act up. Any sleep he managed in the last couple of days was restless at best. Molly palmed the prescription she had picked up at the chemist on the way from Sally’s.  She closed her eyes as she realized what Sherlock said. So, that is how Mycroft was playing. He made no secret that he disapproved of their relationship, promising her not only money but freedom. Never again would she have to heel at his command like a trained dog.  Never again would she have to do his dirty work.  All she had to do was end her relationship with Sherlock. Molly had refused. For the first time in years she was happy.  Content. Safe. Loved.  She’d continue to submit to Mycroft’s demands if it meant keeping Sherlock.

 

When Mycroft didn’t revisit the subject again she started to relax, thinking Sherlock had convinced him to let it go.  She should have known better.  Mycroft always got what he wanted.  Always.  He was just biding his time for the perfect time and place to strike. 

 

The loyalty and love the Holmes boys had for their mother was obvious. Sherlock spoke with his mother every Saturday and journeyed to Sussex to visit her at least once a month. The dinner this evening at Mycroft and Vincent’s home was to be a major milestone for them. Though she was personally indifferent to the idea even she knew the significance of meeting his mother. Sally had told her how important this was and how odd it was that she hadn’t met his only remaining parent yet. Molly had prepared for days with Sally and Sherlock to make sure that the dinner went as smooth as possible. Sherlock let her know all about his mother’s pet peeves and sensitive subjects.  Sally prepped her on what things to say, behaviors to avoid, and what outfit to wear.  She wasn’t nervous to meet his mother.  She had done everything right.  Besides, she was an excellent actress.

 

So when she stepped into the sitting room of Mycroft’s home, she held out her hand and smiled brightly at the woman with the set smile and disapproving eyes. The woman who rebuffed her greeting to fawn over Sherlock, who only nodded sharply in her direction at her son’s prompting.

 

A woman who knew all about Molly’s past.

 

Molly wasn’t proud of that part of her past but she wasn’t too ashamed. Yes, she was addicted to narcotics. Yes, she used black market Adderall to focus her too tight mind on her obsession of the moment. Yes, she stole to obtain heroin. Yes, she spent months on the streets during her darkest times and even traded sexual favors for money to support her habit. But she _won_. No matter how Mycroft had helped or threatened her into sobriety, he could not force it on her. She was the one who came out victorious against the beast.  For five years she had been clean in every possible definition of the term.  Even in her darkest days since finally obtaining sobriety she only let herself have cigarettes.

 

“It is part of whom Molly is.  Mummy was sympathetic to her plight but that doesn’t mean she wishes for you to be involved with her.  Think of your future.”

 

Molly chewed at her lip.  Perhaps now was the time to interrupt the conversation, let them know that they had an audience and the audience did not appreciate having her dirty laundry aired.

 

“Mummy,” Mycroft continued, “is worried about what will happen when Molly tires of you and leaves.”

 

When _she_ tires of him and _leaves?_ What an idiotic notion. It had taken her 33 years to find someone whom she cared for enough to enter into a relationship. Never before had she let anyone get as close to her Sherlock had in this way.  He was one of two people in this world she could be vulnerable who was not a blood relative.  Even including her blood relatives, there were fewer than a handful of people who knew her so well. Molly was curious as to what made them think she would find another person so quickly.  Or at all.  Where else would she find someone else who cared for her?  Adored her? Who would tell horrible jokes just to see her smile? Surprise her with fascinating samples. Waltz with her about their flat because they could and he wanted to hold her. Treat her as if she was something precious and desirable.  Who would frustrate her because she wanted so much to make him happy but had no idea how to do it? Who would make her feel as if she was slowly going mad because she wanted to laugh, cry, sing, and scream all at the same time when she was with him?

 

“Sherlock you’ve always wanted marriage and kids and stuff right?” Watson intervened. Kids. Molly was disgusted at the stupid smile on her face at the thought of how Sherlock would react to her news. No matter how she tried, she could not wipe the smile from her face.

 

“Well, yeah.  But it’s a bit soon to be talking about that!  We’ve only been together for six months.”  Sherlock defended half-heartedly.

 

“Can you honestly see Molly wanting to marry?  Or her being a mum?  Could you imagine her as a mum?”  Watson persisted. Molly wanted to burst in and tell them how it was none of their business but she couldn’t seem to move her legs. Her curiosity was overwhelming and she knew she would probably never have a chance to hear such candor again. She will prove them wrong. She could do anything as long as she had a mind to do it.  She could be a mum. As long as she had Sherlock to help and teach her, she would prove them wrong.  Even if she couldn't be the mother that her child deserved, Sherlock would make up for her deficiencies.  He would be the parent that she was unable to be.

 

“No,” Sherlock said quietly.  “I can’t see me marrying her or her being a mum.  But-”

 

“Which is probably a good thing.  She’d be a really terrible mum.  She’d probably forget about the baby or abandon it in pursuit of a case.” Watson cut in, pressing his point.

 

Sherlock let out a weak chuckle.  “Or she’d do experiments on it.”

 

 

_Oh._

 

She felt like she had when she was eight and she fell from the tree in the park she wasn’t supposed to climb. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t manage to breath, gulping ineffectively for air as her lungs burned for oxygen. Her heart pounded as her shock and anxiety started to settle in.

 

It was curiously reminiscent of her first Adderall induced panic attack.

 

Her mind raced as the vice loosened on her lungs, allowing her to finally breath. Sherlock didn’t want to marry her. Sherlock didn’t want _her._   Sherlock didn’t think she could be a mother.  Sherlock wanted children.  He didn’t want children with her.  _Sherlock didn’t want her._  Thousands of scenes over the last six months flashed before her eyes as the thought sank in. She leaned against the wall heavily, holding herself up by one hand.

 

Sherlock held to traditional values, wishing to one day marry. She didn't have the same compulsion. Though an outdated institution, she saw the legal and financial benefits to marriage.  Sherlock, who so wanted a wife and children, did not want to marry her or have children with her. She was so stupid. To think that this would be a permanent relationship.  Sherlock would want more than her.  Deserved more than her, really. He merited someone as good as him, not a woman who flirted with mental instability.  Molly was disgusted with herself for not thinking this through. She should have seen that she was just a temporary fixture in his life.  Once she reviewed the evidence it became glaringly obvious. His reluctance in having her meet his mother.  Him ceasing to defend her against Watson’s words.  Sloppy of her. So unforgivably sloppy.

 

She had played so many scenarios in her head of what Sherlock’s reactions would be when she told him she was pregnant.  All of them involved him being overjoyed, only differing in how he would express his emotions.   It was slapdash thinking not to contemplate that he would not want _her_ to be the mother.  She must have grown complacent, assuming since he had been pining for her so long and now that they were in a what she assumed was a happy relationship that he would wish for it to be permanent. Was he only in it for the chase and now that she let herself be caught she was of no interest?

 

“Perhaps, you need to rethink whether or not Ms. Hooper is the right woman for you. Remember how unhappy Mummy was.”

 

“Maybe I should,” Sherlock said tiredly.  “Maybe we need to take a break.  Think things through.  Make sure we are on the same page and everything.”

 

Molly inhaled sharply at the sudden pain she felt at those words. Well.  It was the next logical step, she supposed. Ending it. A creak above her caught her attention. Molly whipped her head up to see Mary looking at her over the railing in horror.  Molly met her eyes coolly for a long moment.  Molly pushed herself away from the wall, slipping on her heels and walked steadily up the stairs.

 

She confidently pushed open the door and scanned the room. As she met Mycroft’s steady gaze, she hoped that her medical records were still private.  No need to make this anymore unpleasant than it would already be. “Evening, gentlemen.”

 

“M-Molly! Where did you go? I was wor-” Sherlock began. He pushed himself off from the table he was leaning against, walking towards her.

 

“Went to see Sally. I wanted to ask her advice on how I can fix the issue with your mother.  However it would appear that it was unnecessary considering the circumstances.”  Molly knew her voice would be steady.  This was fine.  She didn’t need relationships.  A waste of her time, sentiment and caring. She only needed to look at her parents to see how love faded, destroying a person with memories.  Did she honestly think that she would avoid their fate? Perhaps she didn’t think she would avoid it but she had thought she would have more time to be happy. “You are working the day shift tomorrow. I will have my things removed by the time you are back.  No sense in prolonging this.”

 

“Molly,” Sherlock whispered in shock.  He reached for her, panic dawning in his eyes.  He must’ve realized that she overheard his desire to break up. Well, too little too late.  Good thing she was there. Who knew if he would ever say how he felt if she wasn’t?  Better she know now and not be tossed over later when things would be more complicated.

 

Molly grabbed his wrist, preventing him from touching her.   She didn’t want to hear it. Would she get the _it’s not you, it’s me_ speech?  Or perhaps the _we are just in two different places_ spiel?  It was unlikely Sherlock would be blunt enough to just say what he was thinking. That he didn’t love her. That he deserved better. That she was unlovable.

 

Watson shifted uncomfortably in her peripheral vision, crossing his arms across his chest.  Obviously he thought he would avoid witnessing the dissolution of their relationship. Mycroft just smiled at the scene. The bastard always got what he wanted.

 

“I will return to Sally’s tonight.  Do not worry, Dr. Holmes.  I will avoid your help in the mortuary until you have moved on.  About a month tends to be your typical post break up period, correct?  I will see you then I suspect.” Molly turned his hand over and placed his prescription in his hand. She said softly, “You haven’t been sleeping.”

 

Molly let go of his hand and walked down the stairs.  The building suddenly felt too large, too cold, too unwelcoming. This was no longer her home. She caught her heel on the bottom stair, causing her to stumble.  She steadied herself on the wall and kept walking out of the building. No need to look back, nothing left for her here. She had contacts who would be happy to move her things. Or if not happy at least willing. Hopefully, Sally will let her move back in to their old flat.  She could always use help with the rent.

 

“Molly! Wait! Please, wait,” Sherlock shouted after her as he followed her down the pavement.

 

“Why?” She asked.   She didn’t stop.  She needed to reach the main road so she could hail a cab. She needed to get _away_.  There was no need to here his excuses or reasoning.  Nothing he said would make this better.

 

“Let’s talk about this.  You shouldn't be hasty.” Sherlock jogged in front of her. He looked paler than usual in the moonlight as he shivered.  The idiot didn’t put his coat back on.  The wind that had been chilly when she came back to Baker Street was now almost unbearably cold and pricked at her eyes, burning her ears.

 

“I don’t see why we should.  You have made a decision and I am acquiescing to it.  I don’t see how I am the one being hasty.  I am being amenable to _your_ decision. You want to be rid of me, well now you are.  You see me as replaceable.”  Molly heard the bewilderment in her voice.  She had never been replaceable.  Despised, yes. Unwanted, constantly. But never replaceable. She had always been unique.  This was not a pleasant feeling and she pitied the ordinary people who felt it often. “Since you do not see me as a long term partner there is no reason to prolong the inevitable.”

 

“That’s not what I meant.  Damn it Molly! That is _not_ what I meant.”

 

“Oh. Yes. How silly of me. You wanted to take a break. Why?  See if you could find something better?  And if you couldn’t, well it wouldn’t matter, because Molly is there waiting for me.”  The world started to right itself.  She was used to being on the offense.  Defense was foreign to her but offending people was her strength.  And she always played to her strength.  “This whole misadventure made you forget who I am.  I am not someone who waits around to be second best. But yes, let’s make this Molly’s fault.  Just another thing that Molly doesn’t understand.  Well, this is something I am happy to misunderstand.  Caring and sentiment are just weaknesses. Your brother taught me that. It was stupid of me to forget that lesson.”

 

She pushed past him and held up her arm, flagging down a passing cab. “Not to worry. I won’t bother you any longer. I am sure it is quite a relief to your friends and family that you may find someone who is agreeable to them.”

 

Sherlock lunged at the door she was closing.  “No.  It’s not a relief.” His open pleading made her shift uncomfortably.   “Molly just come home and calm down.   We’ll talk about this without John or Mycroft.  Please, if nothing else I’m your friend. So-“

 

Molly opened the cab door and stood up.  Sherlock relaxed and stepped away, giving her room to pass.

 

“You are wrong, Dr. Holmes.  You are not one of my friends and Baker Street is not my home.”  She quickly slipped back in the cab and slammed the door, hitting the lock. “Drive,“ she ordered.

 

“Are you-“ the cabbie started to say as Sherlock pulled on the door handle ineffectively, cursing.

 

“Drive!”

 

The cab pulled away from Sherlock who was hitting the window and calling her name.

 

This time she didn’t bother knocking when she reached Sally’s door. She let herself in, stripping off her outerwear, shoes and stockings.  Molly walked into Sally’s bedroom and crawled in next to her.

 

“What the-?  Molly! What are you doing here?” Sally asked in confusion. It was clear she was not yet asleep but she was close.

 

“After sleeping with Sherlock for a prolonged period of time, I find it difficult to sleep alone.”  Molly pulled the covers up as she rolled over on her left side, facing away from Sally.

 

“What do you mean _after_?” Sally sounded wide-awake.

 

“There is no need to repeat myself, you heard me perfectly the first time.”

 

“Did you break up with him?”

 

Molly turned over to look at her only friend.  “I find it interesting that everyone kept warning me not to break Sherlock’s heart but no one ever-” Molly cut herself off and turned onto her back.

 

“No one ever warned him not to break yours, did they?”  Sally finished gently.

 

“I have been informed I do not have a heart.”  Molly chewed her bottom lip in contemplation. “May I stay here? I promise to label body parts this time.”  She shyly glanced at Sally. If Sally said no she honestly didn’t know what she would do next.

 

Sally looked like she was on the verge of tears.  “Of course you can, hun.  Stay as long as you need.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Sally sighed and flopped down onto the bed. 

 

“Sally?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Is this when we eat ice cream?”

**Chapter two**

_Two Weeks earlier_

Molly sighed as she burrowed deeper into Sherlock’s embrace.  Sleeping ceased being an ordeal since she started sharing a bed with the curly haired pathologist.  Almost a year on the streets of London ingrained in her that one did not sleep unless at the point of exhaustion.  Sleeping left you vulnerable to thieves or molesters if one could not find a safe rooftop to roost   Even though it had been over five years since she was on the streets, the instinct that sleep was dangerous and left you vulnerable was a hard one to shake.

 

           Sherlock let out a sleepy grunt and tightened his hold.  Molly had not thought she would be someone who liked to be held while she rested but the weight of Sherlock’s arm and his sheer presence soothed her.  Knowing that she wasn’t alone, that someone was with her calmed her anxiety. Though she did not sleep as much as she should when she did, it was more a pleasure than a tribulation. She placed a kiss where his t-shirt exposed his clavicle before closing her eyes to rest against him. Never would she have thought lying idle abed would be pleasant as it was.   Constant activity was the key to her sobriety and sanity. The more she did, the more puzzles she had, the less time she spent alone in a mind that was too tight and loud.

 

           “You’re extra snuggly this morning. What’d you do?” Sherlock mumbled against her hair.

 

           “Nothing.”  Besides the fact that their home was still infested with Watsons-who thankfully had nothing to do with their bedroom-Molly was in the bizarre position of having nothing wrong.  Yesterday marked the end of a thrilling kidnapping case. Mycroft had not pestered her in weeks. Her craving for cigarettes had subsided to a more manageable level. She had a lovely surprise for Sherlock after the dinner tonight with his mother, which would go well considering all the effort she put into ensuring it will.  “You were restless last night, why didn’t you take your medicine?”

 

           “Ran out.  I’ll need to pick up my refill today.”

 

           “Was I supposed to pick that up?” Per Sally’s suggestion she was trying to take part in the household chores despite the fact that they were horribly dull and Mrs. Hudson did most of their chores for them despite not being their housekeeper.  Sometimes cases and experiments distracted her from the things she was supposed to do.

 

           “Nah.  Something’s is going on with you, though.  What is it?” 

 

           His ability to see through her was equal parts annoying and endearing.  How could she hide things from Mycroft but not Sherlock?

 

           Molly pushed up on her arms, loosening his hold in order to look him in the eye.  “I have a secret.”

 

           Sherlock’s eyebrows rose at that. “Do you?”

 

           “I do.  You’ll find out tonight, after dinner.”  In the last month she had taken to teasing Sherlock.  It was quite amusing to see his reactions to her banter. He looked baffled as if he couldn’t quite figure out how to respond to her.

 

           “Will I like this secret?”

 

           Molly kissed the tip of his nose. “Of course you will.  It’s the best kind.”

++++

_Present_

 

           “I must admit, I do enjoy not having to tell people where I am going,” Molly said as they departed the crime scene.

 

           “Do you?”  Sally yawned as she stepped under the tape after her.  Molly sighed in annoyance.  Now, they’ll have to stop to get coffee to keep Sally from falling asleep on the tube again. She still brings up the time that Molly left her on the train and she woke up in Richmond.  They’d only been up for 36 hours.

 

           “It is very nice to leave without getting texts nagging on me on where I am, if I’m eating,” Molly said with a smile.  It slowly faded as she remembered the deluge of texts that would flood her mobile whenever she had gone more than 5 hours without seeing Sherlock while on a case.  _Are you safe?  Haven’t jumped off another bridge, right?  Remember to eat.  It’s been ten hours; please tell me you’ve at least slept.  I’m not texting you the results, you’re going to have to call me. I knew you would solve the case; can you come home now?  Your cat is annoying me.  I love you._  Molly shook her head slightly. “Boring case this was. Clearly the husband. Obvious from the victim’s shoelaces. I’ll have to talk to Anderson about what sort of cases I expect.   I haven’t had a good case in so long.  Hopefully, there’ll be one in the computer.  I’ll accept anything right now.”

 

           “Maybe,” Sally said noncommittally.  “Mols. Maybe you should slow down. You’ve been taking on a lot of cases. You’re need to take care of yourself.”

 

           “I _need_ money. These are paying clients, for the all their idiocy in being unable to see what is right in front of their noses. If they are willing to pay the money, I am willing to take it.”   Sherlock had made more than enough to support them due to his salary and trust fund, allowing her to take cases based on their potential and not their pay out. The landlord whose tenant had offered him double the rent but disappeared was far more interesting than the woman who was worried about whether her husband was cheating on her. Chances were he was. Chances were that she knew that he was before she even contacted Molly for confirmation. She had survived monetarily just fine before Sherlock.  There is no reason she saw that she wouldn’t be able to do so again.  She just had to take more cases that, while less interesting, paid more.

 

           “Are you going to tell Sherlock? About you know?”

 

           “Hmm? Oh.  No.”

 

           “Really?” Sally asked in surprise.  “Oh! You’ve decided to abort then?  Need me to come with you to the doctor’s?”

 

           “Haven't made my decision, actually.  If I tell him he will continue to bother me about ‘talking this through’. He’ll probably do something horribly stupid and misguided like ask me to marry him despite the fact he has no wish to do so.  It will be so annoying to deal with the aftermath.  I of all people know that staying together for the sake of a child is a horrible decision.” The last thing she wanted was to inflict her child with two parents that used them as a pawn in their machinations to hurt the other.  She had more than enough of that for one lifetime, thank you.  No need to stick around for the sequel.

 

           “If you keep it, I don’t think you can hide it from him.”

 

           Probably true.  Eventually it would be difficult to hide her pregnancy, especially if she chose to stay at Barts. The lengths she would have to go hide while in such close proximity would be extraordinary. She felt her mouth tug into smile.  “Oh but it would be quite a challenge wouldn’t it?”

 

           “Molly!” Sally cried in exasperation.

 

           “Oh, not good?”

 

           “No a bit not good.  If you decided to keep the kid you should probably tell him.  If you’re aborting well then, no need to right?  Though, chances are he’ll find out anyway. You’re famous enough and look at who his brother is.”

 

           Molly shrugged.  “Makes sense. I should at least tell him that I don’t wish for him to have any involvement.  I’m starving, that bake shop over there is a good one. You can also avail yourself of their coffee though I would avoid the Americano.”

 

           “How could you know that?”  Sally asked. “Wait, don’t tell me. The doormat is scuffed in just the right place.”

 

           “I’ve been there before,” Molly said with a smile.

 

           “Christ, I hate you sometimes.”

 

           Sally wasn’t a very good liar.

+++++++++++++++++++++

 

           “Having a child just to prove someone wrong.  That’s not good right?”  Molly asked later that day as Sally tapped away at her computer. Sally was perusing the cases in the queue.  She was attempting to find high paying, low legwork cases.  Oh, she claimed that she wasn’t but Sally couldn’t hide things from her. Until her pregnancy resolved itself one way or another, Molly couldn’t trust Sally to deliver the more interesting cases to her.  She would learn eventually not to do that when the inactivity took its toll on Molly.   Until then, Molly would have to wait until Sally slept to look over the cases.

 

           “It would not be the best reason to have a child in my opinion,” Sally said cautiously.  “Still thinking it through?”

 

           “Yes.” Molly was lying with her back on the seat of the couch and her legs thrown over the back.  “I have come up with compelling, logical arguments to continue the pregnancy but I have also come up with equally compelling ones to terminate. This is annoyingly difficult.”

 

           Sally snorted. “Well, duh.  Of course it’s not easy.  I’m pretty sure most people don’t decide this based on logic.  This is where your gut instincts come into play. If you keep it are you going to give it up for adoption?”

 

           “Oh no.  I would become too possessive of the child to give it up.  Besides, if the child is not adopted right away-which would be statistically unlikely considering how in demand Caucasian infants are-I do not want to risk the child ending up in care.  No. The options are keep or terminate. This decision was easier when I first found out.”

 

           “Well,” Sally started off slowly.  “What do _you_ think about being a mum? Giving up the next 18 years to a child, doing the nappies, dealing with the tantrums, etc.”

 

           Molly turned her head to look at Sally. “I never really contemplated it before I became pregnant. I am not repulsed by the idea but neither am I overly keen on it. However, I knew Sherlock wished for children and I reasoned if I am not opposed to the idea and Sherlock desired it, it made sense to keep the pregnancy.”

 

           “You could go through with the pregnancy and relinquish custody to Sherlock,” Sally offered.

 

           Molly’s mouth twisted in distaste.  “I find that idea unappealing.”  Who knew if Sherlock would let her see the child?  What if he found someone else? Someone worthy to be the mother of his children. Would that woman replace her as her child’s mother?  Replace her until Molly was nothing more than a nuisance and her child dreaded spending time with their father’s final fling.  Or worse, the child would find her an embarrassment.  Sherlock would try to make sure she was included in the child’s life. It wouldn’t help though, not with a better option available to her child. Molly was already her niece and nephew’s least favorite aunt, she did not need to be her child’s least favorite mother as well.

 

           “I’m just trying to help you think through the options. I mean you can always have your mother raise it.”

 

           “My mother is 65 and in no shape to be dealing with infants on a prolonged basis.”

 

           “There’s Sherlock’s mother.”

 

           “Absolutely not,” Molly said emphatically.  Give her child to someone who hated her?  It was all too possible that her child would grow up and not love her if she raised it herself.  But that was different than have her child be raised to actively hate her.

 

           “So we are down to abortion or you keeping the child.”

 

           “So it would seem.” She knew Sally would be no help. She never had trouble making decisions until this one.  Would this be a portent of the years to come?  Constantly floundering and second guessing every decision and thought she had?

 

           “I have an idea.  Let’s go down to the shops and grab some books on pregnancy and like child rearing. Maybe you’ll be so repulsed or enthralled that you’ll be able to make your decision.”  Maybe Sally wasn’t entirely useless.

 

           “Unlikely.”

+++++++++++++++++++

 

           “I do not think I need all of these books, Sally.”  Molly was currently juggling six different books about pregnancy and child rearing.  Her flatmate kept giving her books to look through and no matter how fast Molly would abandoned them, another would show up to replace it.  “I would think that two would suffice.”

 

           “Fine pick two then.”

 

           Molly shuffled through the books and selected the least inane ones she could. “Here.  These.”

 

           Sally glanced at the titles and shrugged.  “Fine, whatever.  Let’s get out of here.  I forgot how near to Christmas it was.”

 

           They were halfway to the till when they physically ran into Mary Watson. Molly felt her stomach lurch when she saw her. The one good part about her relationship ending with Sherlock was she would never need to see either of the Watsons again.

 

           “Sally! Hi!”  Mary said.

 

           “Oh. Um hey, Mary.  How are you?” Sally asked.

 

           “Good. Good.  You?”

 

           Molly rolled her eyes at the exchange.  This is why she did not go shopping, dull exchange of words with dull people.

 

           “Oh, Molly!  Hi! Glad I ran into you. Sherlock wants to talk to you. He’s been trying to contact you but-“

 

           Molly cut Mary off.  “Yes, I know. I haven’t been answering him. People refuse to communicate after they’ve broken-up, correct?  Though I do think that applies more to the person who did the, uh, dumping is it? Than the person who was dumped. Anyway, I do try to follow social norms occasionally.”  Molly hoped the smile she shot Mary unnerved her enough to leave.  That was the point of it after all.

 

           “Yes. Well, he did want to talk to you about what happened you know?” Mary shot her a nervous look.

 

           Molly turned to Sally.  “That doesn’t make any sense.  Why would he wish to contact me after what happened?  I didn’t leave anything of importance there.   Should I care if he regrets his decision? Do I contact him?”

 

           “About this?  Absolutely not.” Sally said as she grabbed the books from Molly and began to steer her towards the till and away from her cousin “Come on, let’s buy these books and head home.  Say hi to your parents for me Mary.”

 

           A hand on Molly’s elbow caused her to turn around. Mary looked almost startled that she was the one holding her elbow.  “Please talk to him. He’s a wreck.  John and him row all the time and I don’t think he’s slept more than a couple hours since you left.  Please, he misses you.”

 

           Hope bloomed in her chest, constricting her throat.  “He does?” The moment she said those words she wished she could take them back. They left her bare and vulnerable.

 

           Mary smiled as she nodded eagerly.  “Come around tonight, I’ll make sure we’re scarce so you can have some privacy. Let you two sort things out.”

 

           Molly glanced at Sally.  She felt so helpless and she hated it. As much she wanted to see Sherlock an equal part of her never wanted to see him ever again.  They had ended things, why would he wish to see her? Did he really miss her? Did he know about the child? Sally sighed and shrugged. It was up to Molly to make the decision.

 

           “I’ll think about it.”

+++++++

some scene maybe…

+++++++

           Molly wrapped her coat closer around her as she turned onto Baker Street. Sherlock would find out sooner or later about her pregnancy.  She had no desire to leave London, though she was currently looking into other institutes besides St. Barts for her work, and there were too many avenues for her secret to come out.  Sally, sweet simple Sally, would let something slip to Mary who would tell Watson who would tell Sherlock. Or more likely she would be caught on CCTV by one of Mycroft’s goons who would tell Mycroft who would then tell Sherlock.

 

           Best to do it herself.  Get any misguided notions out of his head.  Besides, she thought, he had spent the last three weeks trying to contact her despite her careful efforts to avoid Barts.  Might as well take Mary’s advice and hear him out.  Though Sherlock didn’t want her as the mother of his child facts of the matter was she was pregnant and going to keep it. He’d probably want some involvement. He would be a wonderful father. It wasn’t fair to deny her child that relationship, despite how he felt about her.

 

           She selfishly hoped that the child would prefer her.

 

           Molly leapt to the side as a cab drove by, just nearly avoiding the puddle spray.  Idiotic drivers. Too stupid to notice anything. The ones that weren’t too stupid were serial killers.  At least they were interesting.

 

           The cab door swung open and Sherlock got out laughing. Molly felt her chest tighten at the look of him.  He looked so happy and boyish. It had felt like years since she last saw him let alone see him smile.   Her face softened automatically at the sight of seeing him so relaxed and happy. Sherlock whirled around the door and bowed as his companion stepped from the car.

 

           She wasn’t gorgeous but she looked _good._ It seemed so trite a description however true it was. She was the perfect primary school teacher.  The princess from a story book.  Completely untouched from any of life’s hardships, completely open and ready to bestow a smile at a moment’s notice. Her tailored clothes spoke of money and elegance, her posture of the confidence that could only come from being an adored child of loving parents.

 

           Sherlock whirled around to help another woman from the car. Mrs. Holmes, delicately stepped onto the pavement and snaked her arm through the other woman’s. Mrs. Holmes’ stern face was relaxed, welcoming and open.  It made Molly ache for her own mother, hundreds of kilometers away.

 

           Molly’s suddenly felt dirty and unworthy.  She was acutely aware of how her trousers were slightly too tight around the waist but too baggy on her bottom.  How her jumper was shapeless, old, and frayed.  Her durable coat that had seen her through many years and cases advertised its tears and stains like a beacon.  The wear on her face from sleepless nights and morning sickness aged her beyond her thirty-three years.   Inadequate.  Dowdy.

 

           It took Sherlock five weeks to get over his ill-fated short lived relationship with Irene Adler. 

 

           Apparently three weeks were sufficient to move on from his six month relationship with Molly Hooper.

 

           It took six months for Sherlock to finally introduce her to his mother only to have the meeting end in disaster.

 

           Within three weeks, Sherlock had introduced this paragon, this English rose to his mother with resounding success.  She probably didn’t need her best ( _only_ ) friend to help her prepare for the meeting. She didn’t need Sherlock to coach her on how to act around his mother.  It was clear she won Mrs. Holmes over through sheer strength of personality.

 

           The women laughed at Sherlock’s antics as they followed him to the stoop of 221.  The Watsons opened the door, decked out in their winter apparel before Sherlock could unlock it. Even from her spot several yards away she could see the surprise in Mary’s posture and the lack of it in John’s.  Mrs. Holmes immediately embraced John and pecked him on the cheek.  Only Mary’s uncomfortable shifting detracted from the scene. The snow and the twinkling fairy lights gave the tableau an almost surreal air.  John beamed as he kissed this new woman on the cheek while Sherlock looked fondly on.

 

            Ha! He missed _her?_ Was a wreck without her?  Any row he and John may have had looked to be _quite_ repaired from where she was standing. That is what she got for trusting someone else to observe.  In order to get accurate information, it was clear that she would have to observe for herself. 

 

           This Sherlock was not a tired wreck.  He was at ease and happily surrounded by his friends, mother, and new girlfriend. There was no tension or vigilance to his frame as he desperately tried to smooth the conversation between this new woman and his mother.  This Sherlock laughed and joked with his best friend who eagerly welcomed him home. He didn’t miss her at all.         

 

           Molly never understood the phrase being on the outside looking in. If someone wanted to be in so much they should just open the door and go.  People should just take what they wanted, not wait for it to be handed to them.

 

           Now she understood all too well what it meant as John wrapped his arm around his wife and urged her back inside, canceling whatever plans they had. All too well.

******

**Chapter three**

_Three Weeks Ago._

 

           “You don't have to send a car, Vincent.  No.  Well, of course thank you but-.  Yes, I know but we can easily take a ca-.  All right, fine. Five thirty then? We’ll be ready.” Molly watched Sherlock pace over the top of her journal as he talked to his brother in law.  It was amusing to watch Sherlock on the phone. He never sat still. He constantly wandered about the flat aimlessly when he talked.  “Oh, I know she is. Mummy will be thrilled. She hasn’t seen the Tappens in years.  It can’t have been since your and Mycroft’s reception.  Oh well, I guess it has been.”

 

           Molly tuned out the conversation as Sherlock wandered into the kitchen. He’ll come back when he was done. Besides she had other things to contemplate.  Sally gave her many ideas on how to tell Sherlock that she was pregnant.  Too bad they were all horrible and cliché. What was so wrong with just telling your partner that one was pregnant?  Why must it be a big production with sly winks and gifts hinting at a successful conception?  There was no reason why she shouldn’t just tell him straight out when they came home from dinner.

 

           The couch bounced as Sherlock sat down hard onto the cushion next to her. She looked at him in remonstrance, he should know better than to disturb her while she was thinking. His smile faded a little before he leaned in to give her a kiss on the nose.  “Car will be here at five thirty for dinner.”

 

           “So I heard.”

 

           “Yes, well, I didn’t know if you were paying attention. I’m going to go out with John for a bit beforehand.”

 

           Molly furrowed her brow as she looked him over.  His clothes didn’t suggest a specific destination. He wore the well-tailored outfits he wore almost everywhere from work to dates to stopping by the chemist.  She squinted at him trying to deduce _something_ special about where he was going but could find nothing new.

 

           “Where are you going?”  she asked at last. She hated having to ask, it should be obvious.

 

           Sherlock shrugged.  “Out. Just hanging out with my best mate.”

 

           Molly nodded slowly.  That didn’t seem right but she couldn’t figure out what it was.  He was telling the truth.   His eyes always darted to the left right before he lied. Perhaps he wasn’t telling the whole truth?  No he always rubbed his thumb when he was trying to keep something from someone.

 

           He kissed her again.  “See you later. I’ll be back in time for dinner, don’t worry!”

 

           With that he was gone. 

 

           Bizarre.

 

 

_Present:_

           “Where the hell have you been?”

 

           Molly shrugged as she hung up her coat.  “Here.  There.”

 

           Sally’s fists were clenched and her jaw tightened at Molly’s flippant remark. “Four days.  You have been gone four days.”

 

           “I know.”  Molly brushed past her and went into the kitchen.  She was gasping for a cup of tea.  Even that horrid decaf nonsense.

 

           “I have been out of my mind with worry.  I’ve been to Scotland Yard.  I’ve been to Barts.  I’ve contacted your homeless network. Mary has been calling looking for you. Where the _hell_ have you been?”

 

           Molly sighed as she turned away from where she was watching bubbles slowly form in the electric kettle.  Watch pot never boils and all that.

 

           “Buckinghamshire.”

 

           Sally’s gaped at her as if Molly started speaking in tongues. “Buckinghamshire? You went to see your _mother?_ ”

 

           “And sister.  Cakie was there too.” Molly’s brow furrowed. _Cakie?_ She hadn’t called Catherine that in over 25 years. “I do have a family, though I rarely see them.  I thought I would pay a visit.”

 

           “And you couldn’t let me know?  I was worried!  Anderson was worried! Mary was worried! Sherlock was worri-“

 

           “Oh, quit with your dramatics.  I get enough of that from Mycroft, no need to hear it from you also.”

 

           Sally inhaled deeply through her nose as she closed her eyes.

 

           “I’m keeping the child.”

 

           Sally’s eyes flew open.  “You are?”

 

           The violent bubbling of the electric kettle caught her attention. “Yes.  I went to inform my mother that she will be a grandmother again. She was thrilled until I told her the circumstances surrounding it.” Molly poured the water into her mug before turning back to Sally. “Afterwards she told me something about how I needed him like a fish needed a bicycle before going on to talk about how he didn’t deserve me.  I think she was going for inspiring but it came out rather garbled.  Then again, my mother is not known for her skills in oration.”

NEEDS MORE

++++++++++++

Mary comes over and apologizes.  Swears she didn’t know. Molly shrugs she knows she didn’t know, no need to worry about it.

+++++++++++

           “28 year old by the name of Lucy Kapour.  Found in an alley in Kingston,” Anderson rattled off as they followed him down the hall towards the mortuary.  “Third killing like this in as many months.”

 

           Molly sighed in happiness.  A potential serial killer. Finally something worth her while. Sally glared at her. Oh, perhaps her sigh was a little too loud.

 

           “Anything you’ve got would be great.  The others appeared to be random killings but now we are not so sure.” Anderson held the door open for them, giving Sally a bright smile.  He was always so polite, unlike Lestrade who made his views of her well known.  It was the main reason that he was her liaison with the Scotland Yard instead of the Detective Inspector. Though it possibly also had to do with the fact that she reminded the DI of his erstwhile wife, minus the penchant for PE teachers.

 

           “I’ll need to see the pictures of the other crime scenes as well. Hopefully they’ll be something visible in them considering you didn’t call me in for the first two.”

 

           “Oh come off it. If I had called you in for the first two before we realized there was a pattern you would be annoyed,” Anderson defended somewhat good naturedly.

 

           “Possibly. But I would have caught the murderer by-” Molly cut herself off as she saw Sherlock in the corner of the room, organizing his tools for the victim’s post mortem.

 

           This was wrong.  Sherlock didn’t work on Sundays. Saturdays, yes but never Sundays.  He always tried to leave that day open in case his mother would summon him for a family dinner or some other familial affair, which she did at least once a month.  After they embarked on their relationship, Sherlock requested that she would attempt to leave Sundays free as well in order to spend the day together.

          

           It was a shock to see him.  Not so much seeing him at Barts but seeing him in general.  Just weeks ago he was one of the most important people in her life and now he was just a stranger fiddling with a sterile breadknife. It made her wish she learned how to delete people like Mycroft could do.  How convenient it would be to see him as unimportant to her without the memories of his touch and laugh dancing on the edges of her mind.  If nothing else, she would be able to listen to violins again.

 

           Molly whipped off her coat and threw it on the sterile exam table as she passed. Not only was she feeling overheated but had the added bonus of annoying Sherlock when she did that. The table would have to be sterilized all over again. “Let’s see what your team missed this time, Anderson.”

 

++++++

           The machine’s beeping signaling the end of its analysis brought Molly back to reality.

**meet Virginia**

**look at speckled band for case**

 

          

           “Oh yes.  Uh, her name’s Virginia. Known her for years actually.”

 

           “Have you?”  Molly asked quietly.

 

           “Grew up together, really.  My mum and her aunt were really close.  Known the Tappens for years.”

 

           “Tappen.” She had heard that name before. She couldn’t remember where at the moment, she’d have to contemplate it later.

++++++++++++++

           “Do you think Sherlock was having an affair?”

 

           “Where did this come from?”

 

           “Sherlock takes an average of four weeks to get over a relationship. He took five to get over Adler. Eight to get over Terry. He dated her for two months. Bit of a harpy, really. Two to date after Paula, only one date. But we were together for six months, lived together, and he was besotted with me for years prior. He moves on after three? That on top of the fact that Watson is clearly familiar with her, despite the fact that Mary has never heard of her and that he was secretive about her.  What other conclusion is there?”

 

           “I’m sure you’re wrong.  Hell you know what a person ate for breakfast.  I think you would know if he was cheating on you.”

 

           “Would I?  I didn’t know he stopped caring about me!  I didn’t know that he wasn’t in this relationship for the long term! I didn’t know that he doesn’t love me any-“ her voiced cracked.  She swallowed before continuing, “anymore.  Sally, what did I do _wrong?_ ”

 

**_Chapter Four:_ **

****

_Five Weeks Ago_

“You’re cutting it close.”

 

           The car was due to arrive in twenty minutes and Sherlock just returned from his outing with John. 

 

           “I have plenty of time.  I just need to change my clothes and I’ll be ready.  Hmm, maybe a quick rinse. You look nice.”

 

           “You told me that this was to be a semi-formal dinner. I wanted to adhere to that.” She was just glad that her nausea had been at a manageable level throughout her preparations. Any beauty routine beyond cleaning her face and teeth was tedious.  Just because she was proficient at applying make up, did not mean that she enjoyed doing it. Especially since she felt abnormally fatigued.  It was bad enough that she had to nap alone; there was no need to compound the misery with an overwhelming urge to vomit.  Based on Sherlock’s past outings with John, she had assumed that he would be back hours ago and she could persuade him to lie down with her. His return three hours later was a surprise.

 

           Sherlock bent down to give her a peck on cheek.  “Very nice.  I’ll be back in a tick.”

 

           Molly’s throat tightened as she watched him walk down the hallway. Why did he smell so strongly of perfume?

 

_Present_

 

           “Ah, Ms. Hooper, I thought I would find you here.”

 

           Molly stiffened at the sound of Mycroft’s voice, resisting the urge to wrap her arms around herself.   If he didn’t know already, drawing attention to her belly would tip him off.

 

           “What are you doing here?”  Her connections may not be as robust as Mycroft’s but she still had enough to get her access to University College London Hospital’s laboratory.   Until recently, she traded her services in terms of favors, not money.  Free meals at Angelo’s for getting him off of murder, unlimited gratuitous cab service for solving an employee’s embezzlement, and at University College London, unrestricted lab access for the recovery of a stolen high profile medical records.   There was no need for her to stay at Bart’s due to Mycroft’s will, despite the fact that she preferred the ancient hospital to that of UCLH.

 

           “Trent Young has been missing for three days.  He is in possession of-“

 

           “No.”

 

           No immediate reply. She must have startled him. “I beg your pardon?”

 

           “I said, ‘No.’ I won’t work for you anymore.”  She turned back to loading her samples into the thermal cycler.

 

           “Ms. Hooper.”  Ah, the Mycroft Holmes’ patented condescension.  Lovely. “We both know how this works. Please cease this puerile display so that I may continue.  I have other things to accomplish.”

 

           “You once offered me a million pounds and erasure of my debt to you if I ended my relationship with your brother.”  She snapped the lid closed and pressed the start button. She turned around, briefly giving him a disapproving look for entering the genetics lab without proper protection to prevent contamination before continuing.  “Our relationship has ended.  I don’t want your money but I want my freedom.  I owe you nothing.  If you want me to take on a case, forward it to Sally and she will decide if it is worthy.  If it is, I will review it and make a decision whether or not to take the case.”

 

           Mycroft squinted at her as she stood tall before him.  She ignored him in favor of rolling up the sleeves of her too large lab coat. “I see.  Well, I suppose it’s a small price to pay for my mother’s peace of mind and Sherlock’s happiness.”

 

           _Sherlock’s happiness._

Quite the direct hit. Then again, Mycroft always knew where to aim.  Mycroft nodded and turned to leave.

 

           “We’re alike, you and I.”  Mycroft stopped moving, his hand hovering over the door handle.  “Our lack of regard for others save a select few. Our distaste for sentiment. Our obsessions, mine for mysteries and yours for power.  I wonder, does any one worry about Vincent’s happiness the way you worry for Sherlock’s? Does his family wring his hands knowing whom he has chosen as a partner? Does your son blame you for any of Vincent’s unhappiness? How are we any different?”

 

           He didn’t answer her.  Molly knew he wouldn’t.  She just needed to remind him that she knew where to hit also.

++++

           -Goes to Barts to see the latest body

           -Sees Sherlock-ignores him- he leaves to meet Virginia tell her he’ll be a little late.

           -Molly realizes who the killer is and that he works at Barts as a tech.

           -The tech comes in.  Molly accuses him, so happy to be right as she calls Anderson to let him alone

           -tech attacks her from behind, tries to choke her.

           -Molly can’t get the right leverage to break through. 

           -Sherlock comes in (forgot his phone) and throws him off her. Tech breaks free and manages to get some blows in her back and stomach.  She curls up in attempt to protect herself.

           -Sherlock throws him off and this time just beats the shit out of him like aSiB beat him.        

           -Tech is incapacitated and Sherlock comforts Molly. She pukes due to jostling her stomach and morning sickness

           “How could you-“

           Sherlock smoothed her hair while tightening his grip on her waist. Molly sank back against his chest in relief. Oh she had missed this.  Having his arms wrapped around her and the feeling of complete safety that went along with it.  “Forgot my phone.”

 

           Molly let out a strangled laugh as she turned her head to rest her cheek on his chest, completely uncaring about her bloodied face. “You always misplace that damn thing.  Should fasten it to your body.”

 

           -Virginia comes in-was told to go ahead to see him by another pathologist. Very unconcerned about Sherlock holding Molly.  Omg Sherlock are you all right?  Goodness, Molly what about you?  Molly pushes away though she’s in pain. Sherlock “are you okay? I’ll stay here and-“ “no your girlfriend is concerned about you.  You should reassure her.” Sally comes and ushers her away, showing extra concern about her abdomen, triggering Sherlock to put 2 and 2 together.

          

 

**Chapter Five**

**8this is weak. Fix this up*  DID I SPORK THE TIMELINE??**

_Five Weeks Ago_

“Why didn't you tell me that he was back in town?”

 

           Molly looked away from the car window.  “Who?”

 

           Sherlock stared straight ahead, refusing to meet her gaze. “Moriarty. Mycroft told me that he was back in England and you have been meeting up with him.”

 

           “That was two months ago, why are you so concerned now?” Why was he bringing this up while they were on the way to meet his mother?  Something about Jim Moriarty made Sherlock ridiculously irrational. And she was in no mood for a row.

 

           “Because I just found out about it now,” Sherlock ground out, still refusing to look at her. 

 

           “I didn’t see why it was any of your business.  He was a client.  I normally don’t discuss my clients with you, Jim is no different.”

 

           “Because your other clients aren’t dying to get you into bed!” This time Sherlock did look at her.

 

           “Neither is Jim.  Not only does he prefer men but we’ve already travelled down that road.  Nothing new there.”  Sherlock paled at her words, his mouth gaping open.  “What?  Neither of us were virgins.  Of course we had other partners.  Why is this so surprising to you?”

 

           “Why didn't you tell me?”

 

           “About me sleeping with Moriarty nearly three years ago or why I didn’t tell you why I was helping him?  Why would that be any of your business?  Why is Mycroft telling you anyways?  Jim has managed to convince a government official to let him return to England without any consequences. It’s none of his business.”

 

           “I would have liked to know that you were meeting up with your ex.” Sherlock exhaled forcefully as he turned to face the window.

 

           She blinked at his mercurial mood.  It almost sounded as if Sherlock was jealous of Moriarty.  “Referring to Jim Moriarty as a former lover,” she began slowly, choosing her words carefully, “would vastly overestimate his importance to me.  I’ve only ever really had one in my life.”

 

           All her other sexual encounters were transactions.  Her motivations to have sex stemmed from obtaining knowledge-either sexual or intellectual-, for money, or for satisfaction.  Before Sherlock she never had any desire to sleep with someone for the purpose of intimacy or affection.  The closest before Sherlock was Moriarty and she was fond of him the same way she was of mysteries. Her fascination with them diminished greatly once solved.

 

           Molly’s hand slowly breached the distance between them to cover his. Sherlock sighed before grabbing her hand. 

 

**Alter This next section to fit new scenario**

          

_Present_

 

“Door,” Molly called out. Whoever was there had been knocking and ringing the doorbell for several minutes.  She had no idea why Sally refused to answer it. The knocking and ringing continued. Molly huffed and rolled her eyes. “Door!”

 

           Still no answer.  Molly scanned the room. Oh apparently Sally had left. How inconvenient.   Whoever was ringing the doorbell held the button for a prolonged period of time.  “Shut up!”  She shouted. Silence reigned. Molly closed her eyes, thankful that they person got the hint. 

 

           Her eyes flew open as the person started pounding the door. “Shut up!”  Could this person not take the hint?

 

           “For God’s sake, Molly! I know you’re in there.  Open the door,” Sherlock shouted.  Molly ignored him.  He’ll figure out sooner or later that to go away.  “I’m not leaving until you do.  I _will_ sit out here until Sally comes home or I’ll call Mycroft if necessary.”

 

           Molly groaned in disgust as she got up from the couch. She flung open the door. Sherlock hurried inside before she changed her mind.

 

           “Honestly Sherlock, what brought this on?  It’s been five weeks since our misadventure ended and you’ve been dating a perfectly dull woman for two of them.  What’s brought about this melodramatic display?”

 

           Molly glared at him as she flopped back down on the couch. Her morning sickness had receded mostly but some vestiges of it still lingered.   She closed her eyes and nestled back onto the throw pillow, waiting for him to speak his mind.  With any luck he will leave soon after he said his piece and she could go back to fighting down nausea. Molly finally opened her eyes when it became apparent that he was not going to be talking anytime soon.

 

           _Ah. So that’s why he’s here._

 

           “Was this the secret?” His voice was strangled as he fought out the words.  “That you were going to tell me about?”

 

           “Yes.” Molly examined her nails carefully before selecting one to pick. 

 

           “Wh-why didn’t you tell me?” Out of the corner of her eye she could see him move to sit on the coffee table.

 

           Molly shrugged. There were many reasons, she wasn’t entirely sure which one she should go with first.

 

           “Molly,” he said in exasperation.

 

           She turned to face him. “Does your girlfriend know you’re here?”

 

           Sherlock blinked at her in surprise.  “Virginia? No.  I mean, why would I tell her?”

          

           Molly tilted her head in confusion.  “Shouldn’t you let her know that you are visiting your pregnant ex?  Then again if you don’t tell her chances are she will never know.”

 

           Sherlock sank to his knees next to the couch, ignoring her reply.  He gently placed his hands on her still flat stomach.  “A baby.”  His voice cracked as he spoke.  Pressure built behind her eyes as she watched him stare wondrously at her t-shirt covered stomach. This was how she anticipated his reaction to the news.  Her pleasure at being right was tempered by the fact that he was with another woman now.

 

           It wasn’t right. This should have been a happy moment for both of them.  One of the few pleasant memories she kept tucked away that she could brush off and remember in her darker moments.

 

           Molly pushed his hands off of her.  “My pregnancy does not give you leave to touch me.”

 

 

          

**LATER CHAPTERS/IDEAS/EWIE/DISCARD-O-RAMA**

 

-after break up with Virginia it’s the first warm day of the year

-Molly is very pregnant and miserable.  He takes her on a picnic.  She falls asleep in the shade.  Sherlock curls up next to her, palming her stomach feeling the baby move.  Molly stirs, he kisses her brow and soothes her back to sleep.

-Exhausted, wakes her up and take her to 221b, b/c closer.  Molly sleepy asks for a bath hot and sticky.  Sherlock runs one, helps her out of her clothes. 1st time since. Molly is a little self conscious. Sherlock ignores her to hold her close before helping in the tub.  He sits down next to here they chat a little.

-So Sally is moving in with Anderson M: yeah, so. S: come back.  Please.

-I need a nap. S: disappointed but okay.  She throws on one of his t-shirts and they nap.  Wake up. Slow I missed you so much spooning cuddling.

-S: come back? M: Yes.

++++++

           “So have any ideas on what you’re going to name it?”

 

           Molly looked up from where she was typing to look at Sally. “No.   I had thought if it were male to name it after my father but for obvious reasons I’m not going to do so.”

 

           “Um, what obvious reasons?”  Sally asked.

 

           “My father’s name was John.  I don’t wish any one to think he is named for Watson so he won’t be John. If it is a he I should say.”

 

++++++++

 

           _“You have another date tonight. Things are getting serious,” Molly said as she walked into the lab._

_Sherlock straightened when he saw her. “Yes, I do.  Have another date I mean..”_

_Molly suppressed a frown. It had been five weeks since that night. He’d been seeing this woman sporadically for the past two weeks. She was more replaceable than she had anticipated.  Even with Adler it took him four weeks to move on to another woman.  She’d seriously misjudged his attachment to her. “All very interesting,” she replied in a tone that suggested she found it to be anything but. “I need to speak with you privately before you leave for lunch with Watson.”  Molly glanced at where the blonde doctor was perched on the chair. “Alone.”_

_She walked out into the hallway. He’d follow her there, she was sure of it._

_“I can’t believe it took you over a month for you to-“_

_“I’m pregnant.” Best to cut him off before he got too distracted.  No need to be delicate about this anyway._

_Sherlock recoiled in horror at the news.  A heavy feeling settled in her stomach at the sight.  This is not how she imagined he would react when she first found out about the baby. “I am aware that you are not pleased that I am the mother but that is unchangeable.  There is no need to worry, I don’t need or expect any help financial or otherwise.  I won’t even have you named as the father so no need to be involved, I can handle this. I was told to inform you.”_

_Sherlock continued to gape at her.  Molly peered at him to make sure he was still breathing.  He was abnormally still.  She pulled back once she was positive he was still breathing and turned to leave. Sherlock’s hand closed around her elbow before she could get more than a step away.  “How long have you known?  How far along are you?”  His words were strangled._

_“I am twelve weeks pregnant. I waited until the first trimester was over.  I wanted to wait until the risk of miscarriage was significantly reduced before telling you. I found out six weeks ago.” Molly pulled away from him._

_“You knew. You knew that night and you didn’t tell me?”  Sherlock sounded angry, she thought idly._

_“Obviously. I was planning on telling you after we had dinner with your mother.  Sally’s idea.  She thought it would be nice end to the evening.  Since she rarely misjudges these situations I bowed to her logic.  Good thing too or else you would feel obligated to stay with me even when you wanted so desperately to leave.”_

_Watson opened the door to the lab.  “Sorry, Sherlock. Virginia called you.  I thought you’d want to know.”_

_Molly waited for Watson to go back into the lab.  Instead he stayed, butting into their business as usual._

_“Well, we wouldn’t want to keep Ms. Tappen waiting.  You should call her.”_

_“She can wait. This is more important. We need to talk about this now.” Sherlock grabbed both of her upper arms. This was the closest she had been to him in over a month she realized._

_“I can do anything I put my mind to,” Molly said.  Sherlock looked confused at the non-sequitor.  “I can do this alone.  There is no need for your involvement. Sally promised to help me in the beginning. Eldest of four. She has experience in this. She said she would teach me.” Molly looked away from him. She always found his eyes to be unnerving in how piercing they were.  “It was supposed to be you.  You were supposed to help me do this.  You made me sloppy in my thinking.  I was actually stupid enough to think you would have been happy about this.  Call your girlfriend.  You won’t have to worry about her doing experiments on your children.”_

_Molly extricated herself from his grasp.  Her business here was done._

 

 

Make up scene??? Maybe 

You shouldn’t have pointed this out to me,” Sherlock whispered in her ear as he laid his hands on her shoulders.  “Your pupils are almost completely dilated and your pulse is racing. You taught me what that means, remember?” His hands slid down her sides to cup her barely protruding stomach.

 

           “Don’t be flattered.  With the amount of hormones in me I’d shag anybody who was willing.” Her eyes fluttered shut as he pressed himself up against her back and started to massage her stomach.

 

           “I’m willing.”  His voice was pitched lower than usual and Molly couldn’t resist shivering.  “I’m very willing.”

 

           Molly refused to admit to herself how much she had missed this. Not just the sex, though that was always lovely, but being in his arms.  It always made her feel safe and protected.  Molly was very efficient and capable in protecting herself but she loved it when Sherlock got stupidly protective.  It made her feel special and loved, that she was something that was worthy of being protected.  That someone cared enough to ensure that nothing happened to her.  Even though chances were that she would be more proficient in a fight than Sherlock and his stupid noblesse oblige sense of fair play would only hinder him, Molly thought that this what people meant when they said, ‘it’s the thought that counts.’

 

           “You’ve a girlfriend and it’s no longer me.”  Her words would have had more power behind them if she weren’t already twisting so that she could kiss him.

 

           Sherlock didn’t answer in favor of enthusiastically reacquainting himself with her mouth.  Molly turned fully to face him, bringing her arms around his neck to bring him closer. Whether it was the hormones or Sherlock she had no idea but she felt like she would die from want if they things didn’t escalate quickly.

 

           “Broke up with her.   She was boring. Kind, sweet but boring. Very much a society miss. Not you.  Nothing like you.”  He punctuated each thought with a kiss.  “Want you.  Brilliant, sarcastic, socially inept, biting, stupid, brilliant you.”

 ^^^^ Rewrite.  talk about how Virginia is an old friend and they were giving it a go.

           “Not stupid,” Molly gasped as Sherlock untied her shirt, parting the two sides. “You said brilliant twice.”

 

           “It needed repeating.”  Sherlock pushed her shirt off her shoulders.  “Am I mad or do your breasts look even more fantastic?”  His question was muffled as Molly pushed his jumper and undershirt over his head.

 

           “Bigger,” Molly said quickly before latching her mouth to his exposed chest. “We’re not getting back together.”

 

           “Let’s discuss that later,” Sherlock said as he unfastened her bra. He paused after he slipped the straps from her shoulders.  “This is safe right? Jesus, tell me this is okay.”

 

           “Can’t be flat on my back, makes me sick.  Other than that it’s safe.”  Molly gave up on Sherlock’s clothes in favor of divesting herself. Thankfully, Sherlock was bright enough to catch on and do the same thing.

 

           “I think we can work around that.”  Sherlock had shucked his bottoms off and was actually taking the time to take off his socks when Molly pushed him to sit down on the couch.

 

           She kissed him in a rough mashing of lips, tongue, and teeth as she climbed on the couch.  “Did you sleep with her?”

 

           “Is now really the time?”  Sherlock asked in frustration as he urged her hips down.

 

           Molly held firm, slapping his hand.  “I need to know it’s safe.  For the baby.”

 

           Sherlock sobered.  “I did. She was clean, though.”

 

           Molly reviewed everything she knew about Virginia and the brief glance she had of her.  Nothing suggested she was routinely unfaithful but…

 

           Molly buried her face in Sherlock’s neck and let out a wordless growl of frustration. “Damn your libido,” she said before climbing off his lap. She felt ready to cry with frustration.   She was so damn close.

 

           “I’ll get tested as soon as I can,” Sherlock said quietly. He threaded his hands through her hair. “I can take care of you though.”

 

           “I’m not risking anything.”  It was her duty to protect her baby.  Discomfort was nothing compared to the guilt she would feel if she infected her child. Especially if she could have prevented it.

  _this may be too cautious of molly.  delete?  just oral possibly._

           “There’s no risk if I use my hands.”  His other hand started to massage her thigh.  “It won’t be as wonderful as what I had in mind but at least this way will relieve some of your frustration.”

 

           Molly’s thoughts race as she turned the suggestion over in her mind. “My bedroom.”   She barely stood up before Sherlock scooped her up in his arms.  Molly let out an involuntary squeak that made her cringe.  Sherlock carried her to the bed and set her on down.

 

           “Right, pillows.  We need pillows,” he muttered to himself as he started to form a nest behind her. Molly watched in amusement as he ran about the room and back out to the sitting room for the throw cushions. “Okay try that, is that okay?”

 

           Molly leaned back in the pile before throwing and rearranging some pillows about.  Once she had it to her satisfaction, she reclined onto the pile and opened her arms to him with a smirk.  Sherlock sighed in relief before joining her on the bed.

++++

 WRite the sex scene??? Time jump may be better  ARGH!  


           “You’re going to have to sit up.  I need to clean up.”

 

           Sherlock nodded before handing her tissues from her bedside table. Sherlock dragged Molly back into bed after she had cleaned up her hands.  He wrapped himself around her as if he were drowning and she was his flotation device.  He gently ran his hand over her belly, a stupid smile on his face.

 

           Molly took a deep breath.  Time to break the news.  “It’s female.”

 

           “Huh?” Sherlock said absentmindedly.

 

           “The fetus.  It’s female. You don’t need to worry about marrying me anymore.”  He was sure to leave now. She was only worth pursuing if the baby was a boy.  Since the sonogram showed clear lack of male genitals, he was free to leave her.

 

           Sherlock’s face went blank before he grinned so hard Molly thought he was going to split his face.  It was an extremely unattractive and attractive look on him.    He kissed her roughly before pulling back to kiss her stomach. “A daughter?  We’re going to have a daughter?”

 

           “Yes,” Molly said hesitantly.  He was obviously happy but Molly was unsure as to why.  Was it because he was free of her?  No need to try to keep her if it wasn’t the Haden heir. Was he truly that happy for a daughter?

 

           Sherlock grabbed a discarded pillow and scooted down the bed so his head was right by her stomach.  “Do you think she can hear me?  Oh forget it. She’s going to be so beautiful.” He rubbed her stomach briskly as if he was trying to wake it up.  “Hello! I doubt you can hear me-“

 

           “Are you speaking to my abdomen?”  Molly asked incredulously.  She knew he was but she couldn’t fathom as to _why._

           Sherlock ignored her.  “In case you can I just want you to know that I’m your dad.  I haven’t been around much but hopefully your mummy will change her mind. You know your mummy though. You still have to stay with her for another 17 weeks or so.  But don’t worry once that’s done you actually get to meet her properly.”

 

           Molly continued to stare at him as if he had gone round the bend. Why he was speaking to a fetus was completely beyond her.  Especially considering the fetus was still inside of her.

 

           “Have you chosen a name yet?”

 

           Molly blinked at his sudden interest in her and not her stomach. “Penelope.  Penelope Mae.  Though I am still contemplating the middle name.”

 

           “Penelope.” He said it slowly as if testing how the syllables flowed.  “We could call her Penny!  Or Nell.”

 

           “Or Penelope as that will be her name.” 

 

           Sherlock rolled his eyes and flopped to the side, half of him off the edge of the bed.  “What were you saying about me worrying about marrying you or something?”

 

           “I was pointing out that since the child will be female, there is no need for you to pursue me.”

 

           Sherlock sighed and pinkened.  “I’ll admit I had hoped for a boy.  Not because I wanted a son, though someday yes I’d want one.  I had hoped I could convince you to marry me.  That the benefit of our son being the future Lord Haden would prompt you into marrying me.”

 

           “You wanted me to marry you so you could divorce me?” She said slowly, still trying to puzzle out his train of logic.

 

           Sherlock moved to lean over her.  Molly refused to shrink back and looked at him straight in the eye. “I didn’t want to marry you to divorce you.  I was stupid. And a bit scared of losing you. I thought if you would marry me you would see it wasn’t so bad and stay.  I mentioned divorce because I thought that if you knew you had an out you would be more willing to marry me.  I was betting that you wouldn’t divorce me.”  Sherlock brushed some of her hair out of her eyes. 

 

           That-that did not make any sense.  He had said that he didn’t see himself being married to her so why would he change his mind so suddenly?  “But you said that you couldn’t see yourself marrying me. I don’t see why you would change your mind so suddenly when you were so eager to be rid of me.”

 

           “You heard all that?”  Sherlock looked stricken as he asked.  Molly gave him credit for not denying it. 

 

          

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo there it is.
> 
> You've also had a little insight into my writing process. So sorry about that bit.
> 
> Yes, I know Sherlock sounds like a jerk but he wasn't meant to be. I was going to write some scenes from his POV and there was going to be a talk about how Molly misinterpreted Sherlock's words, etc. They both behaved poorly but it was equally poorly, it just wasn't shown.
> 
> In case anyone was wondering, NO Sherlock was not cheating on Molly.


End file.
